


Salt in the Air

by Taimat



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Families of Choice, Family, Family Feels, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-30 21:41:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12661971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taimat/pseuds/Taimat
Summary: A series of vignettes.Henry’s gaze is searching Yarne’s face in what looks incredibly close to desperation. “Promise me. You have to promise you won't leave me, too.”





	Salt in the Air

**Author's Note:**

> Completely self-indulgent fluff. This was supposed to be Henry/Yarne, and maybe it will be in the future, but for now, these boys just wanted all of the fluff!
> 
> I adore Panne and Henry’s support conversations, and I drew a lot of inspiration for this fic from those.

Yarne is staring again.

Henry looks over, mouth full of carrot soup and cocks his head.

Yarne’s nose twitches.

Henry swallows, then grins.

Yarne scampers, and Henry turns back to Panne, pushing another spoonful past his own lips under her approving gaze.

“See? I told you I was eating.”

Panne watches him carefully. “Hmph. You're still too tiny.”

Henry giggles around his mouthful. “Hey, it's not my fault! Besides, I know you're comparing me to Stahl and that's just not fair. We mages have very slight builds.”

Panne shakes her head and just spoons him another serving of the soup. “Eat up, human.”

“No need to be insulting.”

 

* * *

 

 

“S-stay away from her.”

Henry’s head turns slowly, smile unwavering. “Excuse me?”

“My mom. You're trying to steal her. I won't allow it.”

“Steal her?” Henry’s voice lilts upward at the end. “From whom?”

“My dad. And I won't let you because then I won't exist!”

Despite Henry’s confident giggle, Yarne doesn't run, this time. “Don't be silly! We’re family! I can't steal family from other family. Probably.”

Yarne is inches away from stamping his foot, either in nervousness or annoyance, he's not sure. “You're not family! I'm family! And my dad’s family! You're just, just…”

Henry’s grin doesn't falter, but it shifts. “Just what?”

There's silence for a moment. Henry’s silence is strategic. Yarne’s is mildly terrified.

“Just what, man-beast?”

As expected, Yarne prickles like he can't decide if he wants to growl or flee. He settles for a glare and spins on his heel, leaving Henry without an answer.

“Just what?” he murmurs into the space left behind.

 

* * *

 

 

Henry’s shoulders slump, despite the gentle stroke of Panne’s fingers through his hair. They're sitting on the ground near the fire, and she’s weaving a braided crown into his hair. He doesn't mind. It's not a thing he’d choose to do on his own, but the whole grooming thing is very important to her, so Henry sits obligingly and lets her tend to him.

“What's on your mind?” Her voice is soft and calm, but it brooks no argument. So Henry sighs, and Panne’s fingers slip. She's never heard that sound from him, before. “Henry?”

“We’re not really family, are we?”

Panne frowns. “Now where did you get that idea?”

“We’re not related, and—”

“So you would relegate me to having no family other than what I would produce myself? Never again to have the large warren of my youth?”

“I— What?”

“If I am not your family, then you are not my family, and I am left on my own.”

“But you're not! You've got Stahl and Yarne.” Henry turns his head to look at her so quickly that he tugs his hair free of her grasp. “And in the future, you'll have more children, and you can love them and take care of them and—”

“Stop.” Panne begins rebraiding his hair with a frown. “That is for the future to decide. I have quite enough to deal with taking care of you, and now Yarne. I cannot be expected to mother more younglings so soon.”

Henry is quiet, thinking. He watches Yarne pass just outside the ring of the firelight, lip curling in a huff.

Behind him, Panne sighs. “I'll talk to him. But remember, family is not only those related by blood. It is also those we choose for ourselves. I am your family as much as you are mine.”

“Family…” Henry ponders, staring into the crackling fire. If Panne is family, does that make her family also his family? That would be nice, he supposes. Stahl gets along with him as well as can be expected. Yarne, though… Henry touches one finger to his lips in thought. He can live with Yarne hating him. After all, it’s not the first time someone has hated him. He’ll manage as he always does.

 

* * *

 

 

For the next two weeks, Yarne does his apparent best to avoid him, but Henry won't be bested. He corners the taguel one evening as he leaves his tent, and the boy squeaks and ducks back in, leaving Henry standing outside the closed flaps. He’d been planning to just let bygones be bygones, but he's seen how sad it makes Panne when the two of them shuffle around each other. Or rather, Yarne shuffles around him. Henry can't much be bothered. But no one is allowed to make Panne sad, so Henry takes it upon himself to fix this.

“I could just hex you!” he sing-songs to the sound of Yarne scuffling around inside. It might not be the friendliest of opening lines, but Henry reasons that it's no less true.

“C-come in,” comes the shaky reply, at long last.

And Henry can't avoid a direct invite, can he? So he ducks his head and scoots quickly into the tent.

“Thanks for inviting me in!”

“S-sure,” Yarne mumbles. “Pleasure’s all m-mine.”

A beat passes.

“So about this whole family thing.” Yarne winces, but Henry continues on. “You were going to call me something. What was it?”

Yarne shifts uncomfortably on his bedroll, but Henry doesn't move from his kneeling position near the doorway. Yarne mumbles something else that the mage can't catch, and Henry mimes putting a hand to his ear.

“Didn't catch that.”

“I was g-gonna call you a liar,” Yarne grinds out.

Henry mock gasps and places one hand upon his chest. “Me? A liar?” He giggles. “It not the worst thing I've been called! Not by far!”

Yarne’s ears twitch. “Aren't you mad?”

“Of course not! Why would I be mad?”

“I. You.” Yarne takes a breath. “Shouldn't you be?”

“I think this is all a misunderstanding. You said you were going to call me a liar, not that you are calling me a liar. So something changed your mind. And I'm glad it did! Because all these bad feelings were making Panne sad, and nobody is allowed to make Panne sad!” Henry pauses and grins, driving his point home, and Yarne shifts uncomfortably.

“Mother says you’re family she chose.”

“Aww, she said that about me? How sweet of her! She's family I chose, too!”

Yarne stares hard at him, and Henry tilts his head in response.

“You really care? You're not j-just, I mean,” Yarne swallows, “You're not trying to steal her from father?”

Henry shakes his head vigorously. “Nuh-uh! Not ever! Cross my heart!” He gestures appropriately to make his point.

Yarne sniffs and then draws himself up straight-backed. “Then, Henry, we’re a team.”

“A team?” Henry giggles. “Oh good! I love games! What kind of team are we?”

“A team of making sure mother is never sad.”

Henry grins at the other boy and holds a hand out. Yarne, nonplussed, stares at it.

“Not a trick, promise! Just to seal the deal.” He waggles his fingers. “Come on, shake on it! We're on the same team. You said so yourself.”

Taking a deep breath, Yarne thrusts his hand out and grasps Henry’s. And Henry doesn't curse him. Not even a little bit.

 

* * *

 

 

From that moment on, Henry tries to get close to Yarne. At dinner, when marching, even before bed. But the other boy is so skittish that it's hard for him to not draw all sorts of rabbit parallels.

He ends up cornering Yarne again one day when they're taking a rest at an old fort. Physically cornering him. And while Yarne is bigger and stronger than Henry, he shrinks in on himself in the presence of the mage.

“H-Henry! Good to see you!”

Henry throws his arms out as though to give Yarne a hug, but then neither of them move, one cautious and the other afraid. “Hey now, Yarne! What's got you all scared of me? We’re a team, aren't we?”

“Yeah! I just, well…” Yarne stays with his back to the wall and doesn't relax until Henry lowers his arms with a small frown. And even then, it's only minutely. “You're kind of frightening, you know.”

“Aww, man.” Henry pouts. “I get that a lot. I was hoping at least you'd be immune, since we’re partners and all. But I guess I'm just a big, bad, scary mage!” He laughs and makes little claws with his hands, playfully swiping at Yarne. Unfortunately, all this does is make Yarne squeak and curl in on himself a little bit more. “Come on, how can I make you trust me?”

“Maybe s-stop grinning like that, for one.”

Henry sighs and drops his arms. “But this is what my face looks like! I can't help being so upbeat all the time!”

Yarne shifts. “But it's not…natural.”

Henry giggles. “What do you mean, silly?”

“You’re always like this. It's…weird.”

At that, Henry lets out a full-bodied laugh. “People say that all the time! If you ask me, everyone else should try being more like me! Never let them see you down, you know?”

Yarne sniffs. Then sniffs again. His eyes narrow, and Henry leans back on his hands, waiting.

“So then, you do feel down sometimes?”

“Only once in a blue moon! And that's probably because I made it blue by accident! Oops!” He cackles again, and Yarne shakes his head.

This time, the taguel doesn't say anything for a while, and neither does the mage. And when Yarne does, it's only a soft, “Interesting.”

“What?” Henry tries, but Yarne doesn't answer. “Hey, Yarne, what?”

“I see you. Or at least, I'm starting to. I can see why mother is drawn to you.”

Henry’s head tilts again. “Oh, do you? I've always wondered. I mean, I think I'm great, but not everybody does! And she's like the mom I never had, you know?”

Yarne sniffs again. “Yeah,” he says. “I do.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Whoo, I thought I was a goner!” Henry grins from his cradle in Libra’s arms, who is looking increasingly distressed. “Lucky thing you were here to grab me! I don't think I could've walked all the way back to camp on my own.”

“By the stars, Henry, please stop talking. You've lost enough blood as it is.”

“I have? Huh. I wonder if it'll all be gone, this time. Gone, gone…” he drifts off into a mumble as his head lolls backward. “Don't feel it.”

Libra finally makes his way back to the Shepherds and is calling for bandages and blankets, but Henry will have no memory of it. He’ll have no memory of the entire stave Libra uses on him. No memory of being bundled up by Stahl and carried into his tent to rest. No memory of a warm but worried gaze as Panne strokes his hair, her son at her side.

But Panne will remember the way Henry’s fever climbs as his body tries to mend. Panne will remember the way he tosses and turns and whimpers. She’ll remember the way he calls her mother and actually tries to shove her away before she gathers him close and he stills in her arms, the barest breath of her name on his lips.

Yarne will remember Henry’s tears. The way that always-cheerful face turns down in pain and fear. He’ll remember the feeling of Henry’s clammy hand in his, sitting opposite his mother as she waits, hopefully, for Henry to wake.

It's strange, he thinks, that this is the first moment he feels like they're all a family. He and his mother tending to Henry. His father cooking up light broths to drip down Henry’s throat and taking a turn at Henry’s bedside in between rotations from Libra, Panne, and Lissa. And Henry, lying feverish and sweating through his bedclothes, faint murmurs passing through the air between them.

“Don't leave me…”

 

* * *

 

 

Two days later, Henry’s fever breaks, much to the healers’ exhausted joy. He doesn't wake until the third day.

When he does, it's with a soft gasp, mirrored by Stahl who goes running out of the tent to find Panne. By the time she gets to his bedside, Henry already has a wobbly half-grin on, and she leans in and licks his cheeks.

It's only then that he realizes he's crying.

He can't understand why.

That evening, Libra is helping him sit up while Stahl ladles broth into a bowl. Henry giggles and says he's so hungry he could eat a wyvern. He manages about half of the bowl before tiring, and Panne looks the happiest he's ever seen her. She nuzzles him tirelessly, and he doesn't seem to mind.

Breath coming quickly, Yarne sniffs the air before following his mother’s example and nuzzling Henry’s soft hair, too.

The other boy laughs gently and pats his head, then gives a weak hug to Panne.

“Don't worry. I'll be up in no time.”

Yarne calls him an idiot, and Henry laughs with delight.

 

* * *

 

 

On the fourth day, Henry leverages himself up and tries to walk the length of his tent. Two steps later, Yarne catches him when his knees buckle.

Another round of healing later, Libra pronounces him well on the mend, but Yarne has grown used to looking at Henry with worry and doesn't bother to disguise it.

“What's wrong, partner?” Henry gasps, his grin finally splitting his face again.

“I'm happy to see you smile,” Yarne answers.

He doesn't know which of them is more surprised to find that he means it.

 

* * *

 

 

It's been nearly a week of bed rest, and while Henry can appreciate the fact that he almost died, he's starting to go stir-crazy. On the bright side, when Panne helps him change his bandages, there's only a little bruising left, as opposed to the blow that had nearly cleaved him in two. He can read the relief on her face and smiles at her.

“It'll take more than an axe to finish me! Probably.”

“You reckless, ridiculous boy,” is all she manages, clutching him close.

When it's decided that enough is enough and even Panne’s tongue can't get Henry clean, anymore, Yarne helps him wade into the nearby stream. It must be cold, but Henry shows no sign of discomfort. He's happy as always, splashing at Yarne with a giggle as the taguel tries to help him bathe, and if not for the fading bruises on his abdomen, Yarne could almost forget it had all happened.

But he's seen through Henry now, his eyes confirming what his nose had told him ages ago. There's more to Henry than there seems, despite Henry's protests otherwise. Now that he knows what he's sniffing for, he can smell the undercurrents of uncertainty, the fear running deep within.

And once Panne has retired to bed with Stahl for a long, well-deserved rest, Yarne gathers up the courage to ask, “What are you afraid of?”

Henry laughs. “Oh, lots of things! Dying a slow, painful death. Sea monsters. Stuff like that.”

Yarne shakes his head. “You were…talking in your sleep. Your fever. You mentioned your mother.”

“Oh, did I? That's strange. I wonder why.”

Yarne sniffs the air again, thinking. “You were afraid.”

“Hmm.” Henry taps his chin. “I guess it could be because my parents abandoned me in the forest to get rid of me when I was a child. That might be—” He's cut off by Yarne grabbing at him and holding him tight.

“I…understand. A little. I lost my whole f-family.”

Henry smiles softly. “That's true! Oh, but I don't mean it's a good thing! It's an awful thing. But now you have a mother and father who love you! And I guess you did even before that. So that's great! You've got a family!” He pats Yarne’s back. “My family were all animals. And they're gone now.”

Yarne doesn't know which is worse. To have had a loving family and lose it, or to have never had that in the first place. “You're wrong,” he murmurs into Henry’s hair. “You have a family now. You've got Panne and Stahl. And m-me.”

Henry pulls back, and for a moment, his eyes are wide with wonder. “You mean it?”

This is the most earnest Yarne has ever seen him. It's all he can do to nod in affirmation.

Henry’s gaze is searching Yarne’s face in what looks incredibly close to desperation. “Promise me. You have to promise you won't leave me, too.”

Yarne feels like he's looking at this situation from the outside. It seems absurd that he has a better hold on himself than Henry does right now.

“Please, Yarne.”

“Of course. We’re family. The family we choose for ourselves.”

At that, Henry collapses against him, shuddering like he’s come down with a fever again. Yarne can't see his face, but he doesn't have to. He can smell the salt in the air. He can smell the relief.

“You'll never be alone again,” he continues.

Henry just trembles in his arms.

 

 

 


End file.
